


knowing me, knowing you

by titaniumaviator



Series: Off the Books [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post TLO, Post-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Pre HOO, Pre-The Heroes of Olympus, Pre-The Lost Hero (Heroes of Olympus)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniumaviator/pseuds/titaniumaviator
Summary: She wouldn't trade a single moment of their journey together. She is slowly uncovering a whole new side to him, but maybe he's been there all along. And maybe there are a few new things to learn about herself as well.///Percy and Annabeth learn one another; slowly and clumsily, but patiently and lovingly.///Moments we didn't see in the books, because they weren't that kind of books. As in-character as possible.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: Off the Books [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163867
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some stupid fluff that I couldn't get out of my head. There's obviously lots of versions of this kind of fic, but I'm trying to be as true to the canon characters as possible here while expanding their personalities in a way we never quite saw in canon. There will be more installments to this!

“I can’t believe school starts in a week,” he grumbles as they get ready for the final capture the flag game of the summer. “Really not looking forward to that.”

  
“Shit.”

  
“My feelings exactly.”

  
“No, not about that, this buckle is broken.” She shows him the breastplate strap that won’t secure. The buckle is bent out of shape. “I don’t know how this happened.”

  
“Lemme see.” He stands up from the stump he’d been sitting on, having already finished putting on his one piece of armor. It’s a belt with a celestial bronze piece attached to cover the small of his back. Coming towards her, he takes the straps and tries unsuccessfully to force the bent buckle into the slot near her collarbone.

  
“Percy, no, it's broken. I need to get a new one.” She gently takes his hands in her own, bringing them down between them. “C’mon. There should be more in the shed.”

  
“Fine. I almost had it though.” He follows her down to the large armor shed. Most everyone has already grabbed their armor and the last few campers trickle out as they walk in.

  
“I think there’s some extras over here. I’ll ask Jake to fix mine for next time.” She reaches the back wall, which has floor to ceiling shelves cluttered with miscellaneous pieces of armor and helmets. He comes up next to her and together they start rooting through the disorganized piles.

  
“Hey Perce, I think I see one that will work.” He glances at where she points to what appears to be a breastplate hanging off the top shelf. It’s about six inches past where her hand reaches when she extends her arm. “Can you reach that?” He’s taller than her now, a fact which she knows he is smug about, but not by much.

  
“Hm, yeah maybe.” He puts down the shoulder piece he had been moving and comes over to where she’s standing. Standing on the tips of his toes his hand still comes about three or four inches from the piece in question. He looks down, then goes to put his foot on the bottom plywood shelf, presumably to climb up and get it. She stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Don’t, you’re gonna break it.”

  
“That a fat joke?” he asks with a lopsided grin as she looks around for something suitable to stand on. Finding nothing, she turns back to him.

  
“No, it’s an observation, Seaweed Brain. That piece of wood is old and thin.” She looks back up at the breastplate she wants, formulating a plan.

  
“Oh so you’re gonna climb it then?” he asks.

  
“No one’s climbing it. C’mere, you’re gonna give me a boost.” He looks at her, expression a little bewildered but not disagreeable.

  
“Okay sure, uh how?”

  
“Here, go like this.” She shows him how to hook his hands together for her to step on. He mimics her and stoops down a little. When she goes to grab his shoulder and hoist herself up, she realizes the bottom of her combat boot that she was about to put in his hand is probably crusted with dirt and mud. Turning her foot over to inspect it she realizes she’d been right and grimaces.

  
“It’s fine, I don’t care if it’s dirty,” he says, seeing the reason for her hesitation.

  
“Yuck, I do. I wore these in the labyrinth. And New York. Those streets are nasty.” She puts her foot back on the ground. Percy considers her for a second.

  
“Okay.” He shrugs. Before she knows it he’s stooped down again in front of her and wraps his arms around her thighs. Then she’s shrieking as he straightens and lifts her above his head.

  
“Percy, what are you-” Her hands flail and for something to steady herself and the first thing she grasps is the top shelf, the one they’d been trying to reach. When she looks down his face is pressed against her hip, and he looks rather pleased with himself. She blushes faintly and shakes her head, turning her attention to grab the stupid breastplate that got them in this position.  
“Got it.” He grins up at her then stoops again to lower her to the ground. When he stands back up she regards him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. He helps her secure the new breastplate and she kisses him on the cheek before grabbing his hand and heading back towards the door. Percy Jackson never fails to surprise her.

  
They’ve only been dating about three weeks, and she does not miss the awkwardness that had plagued the air between them the previous year. The stress of the prophecy had been hard on their friendship. Now that they’d become something more than friends, she finds herself feeling a myriad of emotions, including relief, excitement, and a little bit of nerves. They’re the good kind of nerves though, she thinks. Mostly, she just feels a happiness that blooms in her chest whenever she remembers that he’s hers now.

  
As they walk back towards the rest of their team, she remembers his earlier complaints about the upcoming start of the school year. She’d be attending Sullivan Prep, a boarding school on the Upper West Side, while Percy continued at Goode. “Are you worried about junior year?” she questions as they pass the archery range. He looks at her and shrugs.

  
“I dunno. I mean I am gonna enjoy being at home with my mom and stuff, but I Iove camp. These past few weeks have been awesome. I’m gonna miss it.” He studies the ground. Quieter, “I’m gonna miss you.” Her heart melts.

  
“Percy.” She stops walking and turns to face him. “We'll both be in Manhattan. Uptown. We aren’t that far apart. We'll see each other most days, I’ll be just across Central Park. And we can make some weekend trips to camp too.” A small smile forms on his face.

  
“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.” his lopsided grin is back. “Where would I be without you?”

  
“Probably on the floor of the armor shed in a pile of fallen junk because you tried to climb the rickety shelves.” She smirks at him and turns back towards where their team is standing. “The game’s starting soon. Ready to kick some Ares ass?”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s Columbus Day weekend and they both have Monday off from classes. She and Percy decide to come to camp for a few days, and after a long month of assimilating to her new school and life in the city, it’s exactly what she needs to relax. She’d spent her lazy Sunday afternoon sitting outside, finishing up designs for an amphitheater on Olympus.

She’s going to the library in the big house when she sees him. The door to the small half bath on the first floor is open, she can see him standing in front of the sink, contemplating his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand through his hair. She watches as he drags a piece down over his eyes and pulls the curly strand, straightening it out until it touches the tip of his nose. His eyebrows furrow as he pushes it back to join the rest of his unruly raven locks. 

She hasn’t made herself known yet, content to watch her adorable boyfriend of two months as he plays with his hair- one of her favorite features of his. It’s gotten longer over the past few months, longer than she’s ever seen it, she thinks. He turns on the tap, wets his fingers, then turns it off, scowls when he realizes his hand has dried (godly gifts can be annoying sometimes), turns on the tap  _ again _ , this time concentrating on letting the water stay on his hands, and runs them through his hair again. She’s holding back giggles, not wanting to let him know she’s there just yet. It's only when his hands gather all his hair and tries to bring it together on the crown of his head as his eyebrows furrow even more, strands falling out of his grip near his face, that her amusement betrays her and she lets out a tiny laugh. It’s just a quick exhale through her nose, really, but it’s enough to alert him of her presence. He whips around and sees her smirking at him. 

“What?” he pouts. 

“Bad hair day?” she raises an eyebrow.

“I- no I just-” he sighs. “I need a haircut.” He looks back at his reflection. She comes to stand behind him, opening the door a little wider. The washroom is small, barely big enough to fit a toilet and a sink. Her smirk fades into a fond smile. 

“I don’t know, I think it looks nice grown out,” she says, reaching a hand up to run through his wild locks. “Maybe you should wait.”

“I don’t want to have to get a man-bun,” he says, leaning into her touch slightly. She laughs, louder this time, the kind of carefree laugh that had been a much more common occurrence between them these past few months since the Titan war ended. 

“It’s not quite that long yet. But I agree with you on that. I just think it looks cute like this,” she looks down at her feet for a minute. When she looks back up at him in the mirror he’s looking at her with that dopey smile of his. 

“I didn’t know you cared so much about my hair,” he says, teasing her lightly. She quickly tugs a strand on the back of his head lightly in retaliation and he squawks indignantly, swatting her hand away and turning to face her. He leans back against the sink. 

“I should probably just shave my head, that would be easier. It wouldn’t get in my eyes so much.” He apparently still hasn’t learned his lesson as he continues to tease her. She wants to roll her eyes, but she is suddenly struck with a more evil thought.

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of that. It’s a decent idea. Especially since we're always fighting and whatnot,” she shrugs as if considering the idea. Internally she smirks as he frowns at her, clearly not expecting her contemplative reaction. She continues with her ruse. “Maybe I should shave mine too.”

At this, his eyes widen comically and he inhales sharply. After a moment he purses his lips and scratches the back of his neck, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably. She is entertained.

“I uh, I mean I guess you could?” he stutters, still looking somewhat panicked. “I didn’t really mean that, uh like, seriously,” he rambles on, looking anywhere but her eyes. She should probably put him out of his misery. When she lets a small smile come onto her face she sees the gears turn behind his eyes and she can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes that _she’s_ the one who’s fucking with _him_. He throws back his head and groans.

“Annabeth,” he whines. “You had me for a minute there.” He looks back down at her, a smile fighting its way back onto his face. She takes the last half step towards him then, smiling up at him as she slots her arms around his neck. A moment later, she feels his arms encircle her waist. A little slower than her, but he’s there nonetheless.

“I do really like your hair,” she says quietly. “And when it’s long like this, it makes you look so…” she trails off, looking for the right word. “Free,” she decides. “Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. At least not the whole thing, anymore.”

They stare at each other for a minute, in that tiny bathroom. There have been several moments like this in the past few months, when they realize that it’s really  _ over _ and though they lost so much along the way, they’re here and they’re  _ alive. _

He slowly leans towards her then, narrowing the gap between them. Even after a few months, Percy’s still hesitant to initiate any contact. He is a little shy, but that’s not quite the right word.  _ Bashful, _ her brain supplies. It’s adorable, and she wouldn’t have him any other way, but she wants him to know that he can touch her, hug her, kiss her. So she raises her eyebrows at him, refusing to be the one to initiate.

Slowly (always slowly) he brings a hand up to her hair, pushing into her curls from the base of her neck. She can feel his breath on her nose. She locks away the memory of this moment with him in her mind, the intimacy filling the small room. They’re in this powder room of all places; it’s so random but for some reason, her heart swells at the spontaneity.

When he finally kisses her, she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It’s chaste at first, just a few feather-light brushes, but he seems to gain some confidence when she kisses him back. She feels his hand in her hair press her face slightly closer to his, deepening the kiss. It’s still slow, but it’s full of adoration and she slides her hands up into the soft black hair that started this whole thing in the first place. In response to an almost imperceptible brush of his tongue on her bottom lip, so small it was probably not on purpose, she tugs on his hair lightly. At this, he lets out a little hum against her lips. He pulls away then, taking a deep breath, and her lips chase him a bit. 

“I guess I can take a rain check on that haircut,” he says. When she opens her eyes, his green ones stare back with fondness and the tiniest bit of mirth. “Didn’t know you liked to do that.”

“Shut up.” She pulls him back down to her, giving him another short kiss on the lips. When she pulls away he pushes a golden curl behind her ear. 

“I like your hair too,” he says. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you.” A slight blush paints her cheeks.

“C’mon.” She smiles. “I was gonna grab a book from the library then we can head to dinner a little early. What were you doing here anyway? You’re usually napping around this time.” The curse of Achilles has made Percy need a little more sleep than usual lately, which led to a couple of missed breakfasts and activities. Annabeth had suggested he schedule an hour to nap daily, aligning with the natural late afternoon dip in his circadian rhythm. He’d been doing so for a couple of weeks and his sleep schedule was becoming more regular.

“Coming to find you. You weren’t in your cabin.” Her heart warms. She takes his hand and they begin to walk down the hall.

“Yeah, I was sketching at one of the picnic tables by the canoe lake. Needed a change of scenery.” When they reach the library it is empty and quiet, as usual. She walks around the main sitting area and past a row of bookshelves, quickly finding the book she needed on foundations. He follows her, looking around.

“I don’t think I’ve been all the way back here,” he says, running his hand along the arm of a loveseat nestled in the back nook they had reached. She furrows her eyebrows.

“You must’ve come into the library before.”

“Only a couple of times, to the front area back there.” He gestured back around the shelves toward the door. “Never had much need for the library when I had you,” he says cheekily. She rolls her eyes, smiling.

“Let’s go, Seaweed Brain. It’s time for dinner soon.” 


End file.
